


Two to Tango

by jaekayelle



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-09
Updated: 2012-11-09
Packaged: 2017-11-18 07:44:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/558550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaekayelle/pseuds/jaekayelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roger and Andy meet two years after Andy's retirement. The reunion goes in an unexpected direction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two to Tango

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: no assumptions are made about the lives of these real persons, and this work of fiction will not make a profit.

Andy knew he was beyond rusty. He hadn't done more than early morning hits in the past two years. However, this charity event was for his foundation and was being held at his tennis center, and it was his idea, so he kind of had to be there. He was nervous when he walked into the locker room, yet filled with anticipation. 

The first person he saw was David Ferrer, who let out a whoop, yelled something in Spanish that Andy didn't catch and hurried over to grip his hand. 

“You came! Welcome back,” David greeted him, patting his shoulder. 

Andy laughed. “I live here. This is my charity.”

“Si. Yes, but no one thought you would show up.”

Then John Isner came up and suddenly Andy was surrounded by old friends and rivals, all of them seemed happy to see him. Nearly all of them surprised that he'd actually shown up. By the time he spied Roger his nerves had fled and he was able to walk up to his friend with a big grin. 

“Hey, Rog.”

Roger looked tired but still very fit and dangerous, as if two years had not passed at all. 

“Andy,” he took Andy's hand and then reached out to encircle Andy's shoulders. Falling into that hug seemed the most natural thing in the world. Roger hung on just a shade longer than expected, so Andy tightened his arms and enjoyed it until Roger let go of him. He told himself that Roger was not one of the other reasons why he had set up the event. Yeah, right. 

They hadn't seen each other, hadn't spoken, since Andy's retirement.

“How is that you're still playing, and winning?”

A small smile touched Roger's lips. “Just lucky, I guess.” 

“Luck never had anything to do with your career, buddy. You okay?” he asked in an undertone. Something was off, but he couldn't place it. 

Roger nodded, a jerky movement that said more than words could. “I'm fine. A little jet-lagged. I just got in from New York. Listen, can we talk later?” He was already backing away. 

“Yeah. I'm holding you to that.”

Roger gave him the same tiny smile and then disappeared into the depths of the locker room. Andy got a glimpse of him a moment later carrying his racket as he went out the door. 

He stood a moment and thought that Roger's expression had seemed sad. 

#

The event went better than Andy had expected. They raised loads of money for his foundation, and the fans and players all had a good time. There was a lot of goofing around on court. It was all good. Also, he had to admit, he really missed tennis. His body, however, was already protesting the exertion – his back hurt already -- and he knew he had made the right decision back in 2012.

After he showered and dressed he went looking for Roger. There weren't many players left in the locker room. Most of the guys had other places to be and already left for hotels or the airport. Instead he spied Novak Djokovic pulling his street shoes on. “Hey, Nole. Have you seen Roger?”

“Yes, he left a few minutes ago.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

Novak shook his head. “No, he hasn't been too talkative this weekend. Seemed kind of down, actually. Is he okay?”

So it wasn't his imagination if Novak had noticed Roger's mood too. Andy shrugged. “Dunno. I haven't had a chance to talk with him.” They'd both been on the court at the same time over the three hours of the match, but that wasn't exactly the best place for a heart-to-heart.

“I thought you guys were buddies.”

“It takes two to tango, y'know.”

Novak chuckled. “Are you and Roger going out dancing?”

“If he promises to lead, yeah.” Andy grinned hugely. 

“So you are the girl in the relationship?” 

Andy pretended to flip his imaginary long hair back over his shoulder and put a little wiggle in his hips when he walked away. He said over his shoulder, “Yeah. Gotta go pick out my dress.”

Novak waved him on but then called out. “Hey, this was fun today. Do it again next year?”

Thinking about it a moment Andy replied, “Yeah. We just might do that.” Why not? He missed these guys and ladies. Another charity match might be what the massage therapist ordered. He waved goodbye to Novak and walked out of the room, calling, “Thanks for coming, Nole!”

He met several more players on the way out and asked a couple of them if they'd seen Roger. Most had seen him leave but didn't know where he'd gone. He stopped to shoot the bull with Serena and she told him that Roger was staying at the same hotel as Vika. He got the name from her, made her promise to come back to Austin when she had a break in her schedule so they could catch up, and then he hurried to his car. 

When he got behind the wheel he pulled out his cell and called Roger's number. It went straight to voice mail. He ended the call without leaving a message, tossed the phone onto the seat next to him and started the car. 

“If the mountain won't come to Andy, Andy will go to the mountain,” he muttered under his breath. 

#

It took a little bit of effort but Andy managed to convince the desk clerk that he was a friend of the great Roger Federer – the guy was a Fed fan but didn't recognize Andy, which wounded his soul for about two seconds – and he got Roger's room number. As he crossed the lobby he spotted a vendor selling flowers. On impulse he bought a brightly coloured bouquet and a balloon that read, “Happy Birthday”. Looking up at it and then at the flowers he thought they were exactly the most inappropriate things for one guy to give to another guy. They were perfect. 

He knocked twice on the door before he heard a sigh on the other side. There were soft footsteps and a slight hesitation, and then the door swung open. 

Andy immediately went down on one knee and thrust his gifts towards Roger, who looked taken aback. He barked out a short laugh, before the real emotions slipped away and the mask he'd worn earlier, whenever he wasn't in front of the fans, made a reappearance. 

“You're crazy.”

“Yeah, but that's why you love me.” Andy pushed himself upright and shoved the flowers and balloon at Roger again, letting go as soon as his friend had them in his grip. 

Roger looked at the balloon in bemusement. “It's not my birthday.”

“I missed it last month. Can I come in or are you going to make me stand out here all day?”

Roger shook his head and stepped back so Andy could go inside. As Roger closed the door behind him Andy glanced around. The room was as neat as he would expect from Roger, but it was small. Definitely not a suite. Just a single queen sized bed. There were no toys and no sign of Mirka's belongings. 

“You didn't bring the family?”

Roger turned away from the table where he had set down the flowers. 

“Not this time.”

“Where are you off to next? Are you doing the Asian swing? Tokyo, maybe?”

“I'm skipping the whole Asian tour this year.”

“Huh.”

They stood there in awkward silence, with Roger staring at the flowers and Andy staring in consternation at Roger. 

Moving to the bed Andy sat down and asked, “What's going on with you, Rog?”

He sat heavily next to Andy and leaned forward so that his forearms were resting on his thighs. 

“Mirka filed for divorce.”

“Fuck no! When? Why? I mean, if you don't mind me asking.” The Federer marriage was about the most solid one on the tour. Or it had been. 

The corners of Roger's mouth turned up in a semblance of a smile. “Now you ask if I mind you asking?”

Andy grinned. “You know me – ask questions first, mind my manners later.” He laid a hand on Roger's shoulder. “Come on, man. Talk to me.”

“We've been having problems for quite a while. We're still friends, you know. Probably always will be, but that's all we've been for...ages.” He fell silent for a time and then said, “She met someone.”

“How the hell did she do that? She's always been with you.”

Roger turned his head so he could look at Andy. “Apparently not.”

“She had an affair?” Andy was shocked. That didn't sound like Mirka.

“No! She and this guy became friends and fell in love. She promises she wasn't unfaithful – like that, except for the part where they...fell in love.” 

Andy believed him. Mirka wouldn't jump into bed with anyone other than her husband. She just didn't do things like that. But, maybe, she could have an emotional affair and lose her heart to someone else. He just didn't get how she could not love Roger anymore, enough to leave him. That baffled him, but what did he know about the intimacies of someone else's marriage? His own certainly hadn't worked out as planned. 

Roger ran his hands through his hair, dishevelling it. Some of it ended up sticking up. Andy fought the urge to fix it for him. He wanted to fix everything for him, and then he thought about how stupid that was. Here was his big opportunity, the one he'd been waiting nearly twenty years for, and he wanted Roger and Mirka to get back together? But Roger was his friend and probably didn't swing that way. Andy wanted to take that look of resigned misery off Roger's face. Kissing him was probably a bad idea. 

“Hey, let's go out to a bar somewhere and get blotto.”

“Blotto?” 

Clucking his tongue Andy said, “You are so European sometimes. Blotto, you know, loaded, snockered, blind drunk?”

At least he'd made Roger smile. “I know what it means. I just hadn't heard anyone use it – ever.”

“Yeah, yeah. I'm an old-fashioned kind of guy. You want to go out or not?”

He could see the hesitation in Roger's expression. He likely didn't want to get caught being drunk in public, not that Andy had any faith in his ability to get Roger to do something he didn't want to do. 

“Have you ever been drunk? Oh, wait. There was that time in Montreal when you danced on the table in a thong.”

“I never got on the table and I never took my clothes off,” Roger protested, but his smile had returned.

“Right! That was Feli.”

“And Nando.”

“And Nando fell off the table into Serena's lap, only Feli got jealous and nearly started a fistfight with Serena. I had my money on her winning, but Ferrer actually had some common sense left and pulled them apart.”

They both laughed at the memory. 

Andy asked, “Where were you again? Right, you were the quiet one still sitting on his chair pretending to be sober. Almost had everyone fooled until you got up to leave, staggered a bit and you nearly ended up in David's lap. Good times, man.”

Then he noticed that Roger's face was flushed. His friend wasn't a party animal. He seldom got drunk, seldom had more than one or two glasses of wine. That night had been an anomaly. Andy had kept topping off his glass until Roger went past his limit. 

He gripped Roger's arm just above the elbow. “I never did apologize for keeping your glass full.”

“I didn't have to keep drinking, you know.”

“True. So why did you?”

Roger shrugged. “I was having fun, hanging out with you – and the others. Isn't that what we were all doing?”

He sounded a little put out about having to explain that he had had fun, so Andy felt bad he had asked. 

Andy stroked his hand down Roger's arm. He wasn't used to a Roger who wasn't smiling most of the time. This man with his down-turned mouth and sad eyes was a stranger to him. Roger was not happy. 

“So, what do you say? Wanna go out with me?” 

Roger's reaction took Andy by surprise. It was subtle but there. A light of interest flared in his eyes and his features brightened, before everything settled back into the low level depression. Andy knew in his gut that Roger thought Andy was asking him out because... And just as quickly Roger had talked himself out of the notion.

Oh god. His heart started pounding erratically.

“Did you think I want to date you?” He said it as carefully as he could, teasingly like it was funny only not and hoped like hell that Roger figured out what he wasn't saying. 

Standing and walking over to the window Roger said, “Don't be ridiculous.”

Andy followed him and stood next to him. They both stared out the window. 

“It's not ridiculous. If you want it to be a date it can be a date.” He spoke nonchalantly even though his palms had begun to sweat. 

Roger turned his head and stared at him, so Andy stared back only he attempted a shaky smile. When Roger didn't say anything more Andy fidgeted. 

“Come on, man. This is the first time I've asked a guy out on a date. Could you at least give me a clue if you're going to hit me, so I can get ready to duck?”

Roger said, “You want to go out with me?” His eyes searched Andy's face.

Andy nodded, swallowing hard. “I've kind of had a thing for you since we met way back in the neolithic age.” He joked. He had to. It was less scary that way. 

“I didn't know that.” Roger shook his head. “Oh, Andy.”

His heart plummeting to his shoes Andy put his hands up and started for the door. “It's okay, Rog. I get it. You're not into guys.” 

“Wait! Andy, wait!” Roger went after him, caught up and tugged on his arm so that they faced each other. Miraculously his smile was halfway back. 

“I, well, actually, the reason Mirka left me,” he paused and then spoke hurriedly, “the reason she let herself fall in love with the other guy is because she wasn't getting everything she needed from me and I wasn't getting what I needed from her. I tried. I really did. We both did. The girls are proof of that, but the truth is I like men, too. More, actually. Mirka knew that when we met, but we both pretended that I could change. There was something there. A lot, actually. A lot of love but it just didn't work, you know. We both wanted more than the other could give. So Mirka took the first step...away from me. She's very brave. I'm not.”

Roger's smile faded completely. “Just before you arrived I was sitting here thinking that I'm kind of alone right now. I've still got my parents and my daughters, but it's not enough.”

“You've got friends,” Andy interjected feeling a little sad himself, because Roger was clearly miserable about the end of his marriage.

“I have my friends,” he agreed. “It's taking me time to get used to not having a wife. Mirka and I get along quite well and she has primary custody of Myla and Charlene, but when I'm on the other side of the world from them, well, it gets...bad.”

Andy cleared his throat. “Yeah, loneliness can be tough to deal with.”

Roger's eyes narrowed. “Where's Brooklyn?”

“It's in New York, last time I was there.” Andy's grin vanished at the look he received. “Sorry. She's in Hollywood shooting a movie. She lives there now. We split up, too.”

“I'm sorry, Andy.” 

“Yeah, me too.” He and Brooklyn didn't have as long a history that Roger had with Mirka but it still hurt. It was still a broken marriage. 

They stared at one another in silence. Andy turned away first, looking at the ceiling. “I really wish,” he stopped because he wasn't sure what to say next.

“Yes.”

“What?”

Roger tipped his head to one side. “Yes, I'll go out with you. Drinking, if that's what you want. Whatever you need.”

Turning back to him Andy replied, “I don't know what I need but I hope to hell that it involves you, because I've been waiting a long, long time.”

Smiling softly Roger said, “Let's start with what we already have and see what happens.”

“Okay. That's cool. I can handle that.”

Roger proved once again that he was very perceptive. “Did you think we would jump straight into bed?” 

Unable to decipher Roger's expression Andy said, “I, uh, I'm not sure... I kinda hoped that someday maybe...”

Roger laughed. “I want that date you mentioned. At least buy me dinner.” 

There was a definite twinkle in his brown eyes. Andy relaxed. “Ah. I see. I have to spend lots of money on you before you'll put out.”

“No promises.”

They grinned at one another. 

“So we've got the flirting down pretty good,” Andy said. “That's a start.”

“We've got a great friendship, right?”

“Yeah. We'll always have that.” Andy felt a little lost now that he had finally told Roger how he felt. He had lived with his secret for a lot of years, and it turned out to be not that big a deal. Roger seemed to be willing to give him a chance. “Okay, so dinner?”

“I'll even let you pick the restaurant,” Roger told him, putting on his jacket.

“I know just the place. The food is fantastic and there's a dance floor.” Andy kept walking before he realized that Roger had stopped. “What?”

“Dancing?”

“Yeah, because it takes two to tango.” Andy opened the door and stepped out into the hall, making sure Roger was following this time.

“Maybe you'd better explain that,” Roger said in a wary voice.

“Well, I was talking to Nole and he asked if I was the girl in this relationship.”

“You talked to Novak about us?” Roger's voice went up half an octave.

“Don't worry. He's only a little jealous.”

“Andy, what did you say to him?” They were out in the hallway. Not the best place to have this kind of conversation, even if they were joking around. Well, he was joking. Andy wasn't so sure that Roger was on the same page.

Giving Roger a close look Andy decided it was now or never, especially if Roger continued to be agitated. So he pushed Roger back into his room and shut the door behind them. Then he shoved Roger up against the wall. Then he kissed him. Roger froze, startled. After a few seconds he kissed back, hard, taking control. He used his tongue to force Andy's mouth open. Andy gladly let him in. He grabbed Roger's thick hair in both fists, being careful not to pull on it. 

One of them moaned, Andy was absolutely certain that it wasn't him. Sort of. Roger wound his arms around Andy's back and pulled him close. He was definitely interested in more than kissing, if Andy could go by the hard length pressing against his thigh. 

“Bed.” Andy was nothing if not succinct. 

“Wait.” Roger held him at arm's length. “Have you ever done this before?”

“Sure.”

“Andrew.”

“God. Don't call me that. And, yes, I'm lying, but I want to sound like I have experience. Lemme alone.” 

Roger laughed. 

Andy stuck his tongue out at him. 

Roger took him by the hand and led him over to the bed. What followed was the most amazing thing Andy had ever wished for. Kissing him everywhere while he did it, Roger undressed him so slowly Andy was trembling by the time he was stark naked. Roger was still fully clothed, which somehow made the whole thing that much hotter, until Andy decided he needed to see some skin. His attempts at stripping Roger were met with resistance, however, because his partner was slippery as an eel and ticklish, apparently. Andy took full advantage of the latter revelation. 

Roger was anything but helpless, though, as he grabbed Andy's wrists, holding him at bay. Andy had to struggle to pin him down and keep him there.

“Geez, Rog,” he gritted. “You're stronger than you look. Hold still. Let me make you beg.”

“You're the one who'll be begging.” Roger wound a leg around Andy's and flipped them over. He held him to the bed, panting. 

Andy stared up at him. “You can let go now. I won't try to get away. Why would I?”

Roger considered it. “No.” 

“Yeah, you're right. I would try to get away.” He relaxed his arms, though, and took advantage of his position to stare blatantly. Roger's physique was all long muscles, broad across the chest and shoulders with a narrow waist. “Then again, maybe not.”

He'd never taken the time to really look at a naked man before. Half naked, actually. Roger's jacket was across the room, his shirt was mostly off, his pants and his boxer briefs were pulled down to his thighs. Andy had stolen a few looks in the locker rooms, when he thought he could get away with it – he hadn't been punched out yet – but to have this opportunity to look his fill of a guy he found attractive was heady. Eventually his eyes travelled downward past Roger's waist to look at his erection bobbing above his own. Roger was cut, and bigger than Andy had imagined. Not as big as himself but his cock had a respectable girth and length. 

“Let me touch.” 

Roger nodded and released Andy's wrists, and then sat back on his heels, still straddling Andy's legs. 

Reaching for him, Andy encircled Roger's penis with his fingers tentatively stroking upward. That produced a low groan from Roger, so he did it again and again, a little firmer. Roger's eyes went a little unfocused. Andy rubbed his thumb over the head.

“You better figure out what you're doing, Andy. I won't last.” He was rock hard and leaking all over Andy's fingers. Andy could relate. He was aching. 

“C'mere.” He reached for Roger's hands. Once he had them he pulled Roger down on top of him. Too fast, too hard, apparently, because Roger fell on him.

“Oof!”  
Chuckling, Roger pushed himself up out of the face smash on Andy's chest and asked, “You okay?”

“No. Why would you think that?” Staring as Roger pushed his hair out of his eyes Andy said after a moment, “Show me what to do.”

His expression softening, Roger nodded. Then he braced himself and leaned down, gently kissing Andy on the mouth, his tongue tracing circles until he got inside. When he sat back he ran his hands over Andy's torso and hips, creating contrails of heat that had Andy shifting restlessly under him.

“Rog --”

“Shh.”

Andy forced himself to lie still, for all of five seconds. “Rog, can we do something – anything?”

“We are. Can't you tell?”

“Well,” Andy tried for a nonchalant tone but even he heard the desperation in his voice, “you're getting me all hot and bothered.” His cock was throbbing and every time Roger moved his leg brushed it, sending shock waves through his lower body.

“That's the point,” Roger grinned. 

“Who knew you were a mean sonavabitch?”

Roger got up off the bed. 

“Hey! I'm sorry, Rog! Come back. I'll behave.” He watched as Roger went to a drawer across the room and pushed things aside until he found whatever it was. He turned and waggled a bottle of lube and a condom. “Oh. Okay. Yeah, that's good. Maybe. I think.”

Roger climbed back on the bed and knelt beside him while he took the condom out of its package. 

“Why do you even have that stuff?” 

“Just in case I met someone.”

Roger always was kind of particular about eventualities, always prepared. 

“What are you planning?”

He positioned the condom on Andy's penis and rolled it down the shaft, his face intent on his task. “Ah. That's okay then.” Andy approved of progress, especially if it meant he wasn't on the receiving end. Pun intended. 

“Now what?” 

Roger poured lube into his cupped palm and clasped his hands together. He smiled and shook his head. “You talk too much.” 

“Um, nervous here.”

“I know. It'll be okay. I'll do all the work. You just lie back and enjoy it.”

“'Kay.” Andy licked his suddenly dry lips. 

Roger placed his hands on Andy's cock and moved them up and down for a few seconds, before coating on more lube. Then he crawled forward on his knees. “Sit up a little.”

Reaching behind himself Andy stuffed a couple of pillows under his back. “How's that?”

“Good. Perfect.” Roger rested his hands on Andy's shoulders and rose up. Andy followed him with his eyes. When Roger reached back and began working his fingers inside his own body Andy let his mouth fall open. 

“Holy... That's... Words fail me.”

“Must be a first.”

Roger sank down and suddenly a wave of incredible heat engulfed him inch by inch. By the time Roger was seated in Andy's lap he was covered in sweat and panting. His abs were working hard and his grip on Andy's shoulders was painful. 

“You okay, man?”

“Yeahh,” he gritted out between his teeth. “Haven't done this in a while.” He blew out a breath and his entire body relaxed, letting him slip further downward. His expression cleared and he gazed at Andy for a moment, before he rose up and sank down again slowly, his motion stuttering a few times until he found a rhythm. 

Andy raised his knees and dug his heels in. “Amazing. God, Roger, you're...this is...so beautiful.”

Keeping his movements slow and careful Roger tipped his head back again, dropping his hands to rest on his thighs. Andy reached for them and tangled their fingers together, and simply watched. But then Roger tightened his inner muscles, forcing a surprised sound out of Andy. The need to participate became slightly more urgent. 

“Let me,” he didn't know how to finish that sentence, so Andy grasped Roger by the hips, rolled forward a little and started to go over to the left. 

Roger stopped him. “Wait.” 

He pushed himself up until Andy slipped out of him. It took a bit of doing but they rearranged themselves on the bed so that Roger ended up on his back, with Andy hovering over him from the side. Roger lifted his legs and hooked them over Andy's shoulders, one on either side. Andy knew what to do after that. Mostly. 

“Slow and easy, buddy. I'm already a little sore down there.”

“Gotcha.” Andy scooted forwards until he could line up with his target, holding his cock in a shaking hand. He was trembling partly from need and partly from the newness of the experience, but he did know the basics. A little push... “Geez, you're tight.” 

Then Roger opened up and Andy slid home. 

They grinned at one another. 

“Wow.”

“Wow,” Roger agreed. “Now, move!”

“Yes, sir, my captain, sir.”

After that it was easy and familiar. He wound his arms underneath Roger's legs and held him in place, while he pushed forward and pulled back, finding that rhythm again. Pretty soon the bed was rocking and the headboard lightly tapped the wall behind it. 

“Huh. Must be a real solid build,” Andy commented.

“What?” Roger seemed confused.

“The headboard. It doesn't have much give.”

Swearing in German, Roger stretched his arms forward and hauled Andy down, kissing him stupid. When they parted he said, “Andy. Stop talking about headboards and fuck me! If you are that distracted we must be doing something wrong.”

Roger glared at him. Andy frowned back, a little annoyed on the evaluation of his lovemaking. 

They both began to shake with laughter, until Andy moved sideways a little and Roger froze, wide-eyed. 

Afraid he'd hurt him Andy froze too. “What'd I do? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, do that again, actually.”

“What? This?” He shifted a millimetre to the right.

Bingo. Roger's eyes nearly rolled back in his head.

“Yeah. That.” 

“Was that what I think it was?” Andy rocked his hips again.

His bottom lip caught between his teeth, Roger could only nod.

“Cool.”

Andy made it his mission to vary his thrusts after that and aim for the sweet spot. 

Roger's chest hair was matted with sweat, and Andy's hands slipped off his hips a couple of times; sweat running off the end of his nose. The pungent aroma of musk scented the air. Roger had a pretty tight grip on Andy's arms, and his eyes were locked on Andy's face. 

Andy stared back. 

He wiggled his eyebrows and crossed his eyes. 

Roger's expression clearly said that Andy was crazy, only Roger couldn't hold that thought and started to grin. He couldn't hang onto the humour, however, as something changed. His grip tightened and he slipped down a little, changing the angle of thrusts. Andy felt the tremors start in the finely muscled body under him. Roger clamped down hard on Andy's cock and snapped his hips, spurting ribbons of semen over his chest. The sight sent Andy over the edge. 

When he regained his senses he was sprawled on top of Roger. 

“Mmph. Hi,” he told the shoulder under his mouth. 

“Hi. Get off of me. You're too heavy.” Roger prodded him in the side, trying to move him. 

Andy got to his knees, slowly pulling out of Roger's body. He stayed over him for a second, supported by trembling arms, before toppling over onto his side. He felt limp. Lifting his head he checked. Yup. They were both officially limp and covered with semen and sweat. Dropping his head back onto the mattress – the pillows were gone – he blew out a big breath. 

“That was fun.” And he meant it. He reached down to remove the condom, tie it off and drop it into the trash can beside the bed. “I wasn't sure it would be.”

“It had been such a long time since I did that, with another man,” Roger said. “It was kind of like the first time.”

“Definitely a first for me.”

Roger turned his head to look at him, as if he was considering something.

“If you're thinking about kissing me, I'm okay with that. I like kissing you.”

So Roger moved closer and Andy moved closer and they met in the middle. Roger put his hand on Andy's face drawing him into a slow, exploratory kiss that went on and on. Roger's dark brown eyes were so close Andy could see his own reflection in the irises. 

“Nice.” Then he asked, “Nap?”

“Shower. And then dinner. You promised me a date, you know.” Roger rolled off the bed and headed for the bathroom. 

Andy watched his naked body with its long torso and pretty nice ass walk away, and groaned both from residual want and need and from having to move his creaky body to go after him. He caught up in the bathroom, wrapping his arms around Roger and kissing him hard. When he released his mouth, Roger smiled and said, “You still have to explain how you involved Djokovic in a conversation about us and dancing.”

“I really like holding you in my arms.”

“That's nice but you're not getting away without explaining.” Roger reached into the spacious shower and turned on the water, adjusting the controls. “Shower first, explanation later on the way to dinner. I'm hungry.”

Andy stepped in under the spray after him. Roger already had a lather worked up in his hands and began to soap Andy's chest and arms. This was also a new experience, having another man bathe him. It also went on the plus side of the chart. So far there were no negatives. 

“Can we do it again later?”

“Shower? We'll need it, probably.”

“Ah. Well, that answers my question on all counts.” 

Roger kissed him again, while working a soapy hand down between Andy's legs. They both glanced downward. 

Nothing stirred. 

“Later, fella,” Andy told his exhausted penis. “After you've had a rest.”

“You're crazy,” Roger grinned. 

“You don't talk to your willy? You should try it. He doesn't want to feel neglected, you know. He has feelings --”

Roger halted the babble with another kiss, insistent. Andy wrapped his arms around Roger, pulling him tightly against him, smiling a little at the feel of the softer belly, so incongruous on such a hard, toned body. It was exciting and still so very new. He slipped a hand down to grab onto Roger's ass, squeezing rhythmically as the kiss went on. Glancing down hopefully Andy was disappointed to see that nothing was happening with either of them. 

“My recovery time is not as good as it used to be.”

“Well, I need fuel. Let's finish up and go get something to eat. We'll both be ready for more, maybe.”

“You're sure eager to go out to dinner.”

“I still work for a living, Andy,” Roger teased. 

“I work. It's more sit down stuff, though.”

“And you're still in great shape.” Roger ran his hand over Andy's chest and down to his toned abs. “But you probably don't expend as much energy as you used to.”

Heaving a big sigh, Andy replied, “No. Damn it.”

“You miss it?”

“Hell, yeah.” The pangs still got to him every now and then. 

Roger leaned closer and kissed him again. “You could train, come out of retirement. You played well at the charity matches.”

Shaking his head Andy said, “No, we both know it's not the same thing. Besides, I retired for a reason. My body can't take the pace of the tour and matches any more.”

Roger stayed silent while they finished showering. As they went into the bedroom, wrapped in towels, he said, “I could use a regular practice partner...” The offer lay there between them, half-spoken. 

Andy bit his lip while he recorded the hopeful look on Roger's face. 

“I've got my foundation work.”

“You can do it on the road. Whatever can't be handled away, well, you can come back here and deal with it. I've been thinking about this for awhile, actually. I just didn't know how to approach you about it.”

“Bluntness usually works with me,” Andy quipped, but he was already mulling over the idea of going on tour again – with Roger.

“We could make it a temporary position, until you decide if you want to continue.”

“Will regular sex be part of it?”

“That's how you'll get paid.”

Andy blinked. Roger said that with such a straight face... Then he saw the laughter in his eyes. “Ha! You almost had me believing you.”

“Who said I'm not serious?”

“Don't you sometimes hit with lefties?”

“And I'll continue to do that, especially before a potential match with Rafa.”

“So, just a practice partner?” He meant it seriously, curious as to what else he could do if he was going to be part of Roger's team.

“For the start. We'll see how things go.”

“People are gonna talk, Rog. Seeing me with you everywhere you go...”

“Let them talk. Everyone knows we're friends. Unless they catch us in bed together,” he smiled slyly and added, “or up against a wall somewhere public, what can they do?”

He seemed so confident that Andy began to feel like maybe they could do this. “You really think we can spend that much time together without trying to kill each other?”

Roger's smile softened. “I'd like to find out.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“Dinner?” Roger asked hopefully. 

“Geez. One track mind, or what? Okay. Let's go!” He headed for the door. 

“Andy! Clothes.”

Of course Andy was aware he was wearing only a towel, but he always went for the joke. He grinned at Roger. 

“You know what? Going back on tour with you is gonna be a blast.” He grabbed Roger and tried to twirl him. It didn't really work, though, because Roger was caught off guard, so Andy dipped him instead. 

“Hey!”

“I'm just so freakin' happy, Rog! Thank you. You've given me something that I didn't even know I wanted.”

He leaned down to kiss him but they overbalanced and ended up in a heap on the floor. Roger gave in quickly and they made love right there on the soft carpet. 

They finally went to dinner much later, although Roger refused to dance, especially not the Tango. 

# end


End file.
